


confessions and constellations

by stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Multi, aasim's a fool in love who can't express himself, aj's not a very good detective but he tries, but it's a mystery nonetheless, detectives clem and aj are on the case, is this story lousim?, it's not a good mystery, maybe it's mitchsim, mitch eats moldy beef jerky, omar is everyone's mom, or brosim, or even omarsim, or is it rusim?, so he uses bad poetry, we got a mystery on our hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-23 10:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16617488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale/pseuds/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale
Summary: AJ finds a crumpled up piece of paper with a poem on it. Not understanding what it means, he shows it to Clem. It seems that the two of them have a mystery on their hands.They know who wrote it, but... who is the poem about?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My life’s been a hot mess for the past few weeks, but I got some free time and this idea in my head while working on chapter five of [when he smiled] so here it is. Also, I’m not awesome at poetry, so neither is Aasim. That one’s on me. I did a little outlining [gasp, right?] and have concluded that instead of making this an enormous oneshot, I’ll split it into three parts. So, here's the thing...

\---

 _I couldn’t sleep last night_  
_every time I closed my eyes_  
_your smile  
_ _it_

Aasim chews on the worn eraser of his pencil.

_it_

He rereads it, again and again, wracking his brains for the proper words.

Beside him, Mitch munches noisily on a piece of old jerky he found in the basement while Omar watches in disgust.

“Dude, c’mon.” 

“What?” Mitch gulps before knawing on the jerky again. 

Aasim rubs at his tired eyes and rests his chin in his palm. He watches, absolutely disgusted, as Mitch tries to chew through the toughness of the dried out meat. 

Mitch eyes him, offering him the jerky with a quirked brow. Aasim shakes his head and taps his pencil against the notebook. 

“What rhymes with eyes?” he asks. 

From across the table, Omar quirks a brow. “Eyes?”

“Dies,” says Mitch. “Cries. Fries.”

“Skies?” Omar offers. 

“Pies. Dries. Lies.” Mitch continues. “Guys. Spies. Ties. Tries. Flies. Ssss...smies?”

“Not a word,” frowns Omar. 

“Yies. Quies. Zies.”

“None of those are words.”

Aasim sighs. 

 ~~I couldn’t sleep last night  
~~ ~~every time I closed my eyes  
~~ ~~your laugh  
~~ ~~it~~

“Nevermind,” Aasim mumbles. He tries again.

Mitch takes another bite of jerky.

Omar says, “That thing’s probably gonna kill you.” 

“Probably,” Mitch replies. “Want some?”

 _thunder,_  
_that’s what you are  
_ _you_

“Seriously?” Omar scoffs.

“Tastes better than rabbit stew.”

“Oh, you can just fuck right off with that.”

Willy laughs.

 _you send vibrations_  
_through the earth  
_ _with your laugh alone_

Mitch shrugs. He pulls his knife out and cuts a chunk off for Willy, who happily shoves the whole thing in his mouth. 

“Don’t give him that!” Omar scolds. 

Willy’s face twists into something uncomfortable. “It’s hard,” he complains.

“Chew it.”

“It hurts to chew.”

“Then, suck on it.”

“Ew-  _oh god_!” Omar reaches over and snatches the remaining jerky away. Mitch nearly flings himself across the table to take it back. This causes Aasim’s pencil to dig across the paper, tearing it. 

“What the fuck!? Give it back!”

Omar points at something gray and fuzzy on the side. “That’s  _mold_! You’re gonna get sick!”

Willy spits the jerky out onto the table. 

“Jerky doesn’t get moldy, dumbass!”

“Then what’s this!?”

Aasim glares at the two of them.  “Hey, can you two, like, stop?” He tears the page from his book and crumples it up. 

Mitch steals his jerky back, pointedly taking another bite with obnoxious chewing noises. He then starts pulling the gray stuff off the remaining jerky. 

Omar, exasperated, gives up. “Sorry, just trying to keep Mitch alive, but you know, what can you do?”

“Fuck off,” Mitch murmurs, “s’not even mold. Just a dust bunny.”

“Oh, right, ‘cause that’s healthy.”

Willy picks up the soggy piece he spat out and sticks it back in his mouth. 

“Willy!”

“What?”

They continue to bicker back and forth about the questionable meat. With a heavy sigh, Aasim does his best to tune them out. He turns away from them and lays his head against his arm. 

The blank page was refreshing, he thought. The previously ruined page had become nothing but scribbled out words and poorly doodled hearts anyway. 

What a loser. 

There’s laughter from the other table. Aasim peeks over. 

Marlon, Brody, Violet, Ruby, Louis, and Clementine sat together, grinning and giggling about something. 

He quickly turned back to his paper. He bit at his lip and picks his pencil back up. 

Right.

The whole reason he was writing this. 

It’s not that he forgot or anything, it’s just been... difficult. 

Lately, he’d been having some interesting thoughts. 

Interesting feelings.

He couldn’t talk about it. He didn’t have anyone to talk to about it in the first place, and anything he did say in the privacy of his room was incoherent and jumbled. Only on paper could he even begin to process these feelings. 

The more and more he wrote, the more poems he ripped apart, the more he came to understand these feelings. And he knew one thing: He needs to do something about them. As nice as it is to do nothing and let those feelings eat away at his insides, he knows he can’t live like that anymore. He doesn’t want to pretend everything’s okay, that he isn’t...

...that he isn’t in love. 

Fuck. 

In love.

He didn’t know how else to put it. 

He’s in like-like?

He’s got a bad case of ‘super-intense-crushitis’. 

God, that’s stupid. 

Aasim is in love and it’s slowly killing him. 

So, he’s devised a plan. Nothing too brilliant. 

He’s going to confess. It’s all planned out.

 **Step one:** Write down ALL his feelings in the form of a beautiful and breathtaking poem [because poetry is easy and romantic, right?].

 **Step Two:** Send a letter asking to meet him on the roof late one night [preferably when the moon is bright and the air isn’t too cold].

 **Step Three:**  Read his poem out loud in the moonlight [ _without_  puking, please] thereby confessing his love. 

 **Step Four:**  ??? Rejection?? Possible death?? Probably?

Not a plan without flaw, of course, but what else is he supposed to do? 

It shouldn’t be this hard. Writing a poem that’s both interesting and gets his point across shouldn’t be this hard. Fuck, _confessing_  shouldn’t be this hard. He wishes he could just blurt it out without a thought, without a worry but...

There’s more laughter from the table. He watches as they all stand, still talking and joking with each other before parting ways.

He gathers his notebook and gets up from the table. He doesn’t bother excusing himself. He moves over to the desk he usually writes at and gets comfortable. 

He takes a deep breath to calm his heavily beating heart and closes his eyes.

It’s not that hard. I can’t be. All he’s done since the world went to shit is write. He digs deep into himself, thinking back to every look, every smile, every rapid heartbeat.

Back to every dream he’s had of them sitting together, watching the stars and sharing a first kiss- God, a first kiss- and holding hands and pretending, even for a moment, that nothing else exists except for the two of them. 

He exhales shakily. 

Within seconds, he’s writing again. 

\---

“What do you think?” Tenn holds up his freshly colored picture. 

AJ studies it carefully, taking in all the little details. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and full of teeth. “That looks awesome!”

Tenn grins appreciatively.

AJ works quickly on his drawing, shading in the trees with three different types of greens to make it look more read; a trick Tenn had taught him. He doesn’t know how long they sat together, coloring and lightly chatting. Eventually, Tenn starts picking up all his colors and tucking them back in the purple case neatly.

“You’re not done, are you?” AJ asks.. 

Tenn nods. “Yeah, I-I’m kind of tired.”

“Oh,” AJ frowns, the disappointment clear on his face. 

“We can color again tomorrow,” Tenn offers, “o-or we can play something else?”

“Okay,” says AJ. He helps Tenn put away the rest of his colors and waves goodbye to his friend.  Alone on the bend, AJ takes in his surroundings. He finds Clem standing by the fire with Louis. The two are deep in conversation. 

Just as AJ’s about to go join them, he hears a sharp curse. 

Aasim’s sitting in his desk with a sullen face. AJ pauses, watching him carefully. He’s firmly holding a piece of paper and his lips are moving quickly. AJ doesn’t think anything of it until Aasim shakes his head and crumples up the paper.

“No, that’s-” AJ hears him murmur. He sighs. “-that’s... stupid.”

He sits back in his desk with his legs stretching out and his hands rubbing at his face. 

When AJ approaches him, he’s cautious. Aasim doesn’t notice him. 

“Um...?” AJ tries to think of something to say, but before he can get anything out, Aasim slams his book shut and jumps up from the desk, book in hand, and storms off. He doesn’t even bother to pick up the wad of paper as it falls to the dirt.

He’s mad, but why? AJ thinks to himself. 

He reaches down and unfolds the paper. 

“Woah...” 

There’s a lot of words. 

Like, a lot. 

Most of them are crossed out, but there’s one bundle of text that’s left untouched.

“A...th... thhh.... ah-uh-sand stor-stories....” he sounds out. He continues to try and read the words, but none of it makes any sense. Some words are easy, like ‘us’ and ‘safe,’ but most are tricky. 

AJ peers around before pocketing the note. 

He approaches Clem and Louis at the same time as Marlon. 

“Clem, you’re on watch now,” he says. 

“Ah, night watch,” Louis dramatically yawns, “lucky you. I’ll think of you out here in the cold while I’m tucked in my nice, warm bed.” 

Clem rolls her eyes, a smile betraying on her lips as she elbows him. “If I recall, you have the early morning watch, hm?”

“What?” Louis gasps. “Since when?”

“Since you missed watch yesterday,” frowns Marlon.

“Dude, not a morning person, remember?” Louis complains.

“Yeah, I remember,” Marlon shakes his head. “That’s why I’ll be there to personally drag your ass outta bed and up that ladder.”

“Duuuuuude,” Louis whines.

“Guess you shoulda taken your turn on watch yesterday, huh?”

“Uuuggggh.”

“Don’t worry,” Clem smirks, placing a hand on his arm. “You’ll be in our thoughts while we’re eating our delicious breakfast.” She lingers before walking off. 

Louis opens his mouth to say something but closes it when he sees the grin on Marlon’s face. AJ doesn’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. 

“Clem!” AJ runs after her. 

“Hey, goofball,” she smiles. AJ ignores the nickname. He tugs at her sleeve. “I’m on watch with you, right?”

“I guess so? Marlon didn’t say-”

“Awesome!” He grabs her arm. “Marlon! I’m going on watch with Clem!” he calls back. Marlon waves a hand in acknowledgment. AJ forcefully pulls her to their post. 

“Woah, AJ! Slow down!”

They climb the ladder and look over their surroundings. 

Clem brushes a leaf off her jacket, asking, “What’re you in such a hurry for?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

“Okay?” Clem crosses her arms. “What is it?”

Before he answers, AJ pulls out the binoculars they keep hanging there and does a quick survey of the area. He spots a few walkers wandering aimlessly through the trees. Nothing too threatening. 

“I found something,” he says. 

Clem tenses, moving closer and eyeing the area. “Where?”

AJ lowers the binoculars. “No, I mean, I found this.” He hands them up and digs around in his pocket. He pulls the crumpled up paper and hands it to her. 

“A paper?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really get it,” he admits. “I can’t understand some of the words.”

Her curiosity peaked, Clem straightens out the paper. She assumes he’s referring to the block of handwritten text that isn’t scribbled out. 

“Can you read it to me?” he asks. 

“I guess.”

Out loud, she reads.

 _a thousand stories  
_ _I could write  
_ _about us  
_ _in the night sky  
  
starting with your fingers_  
_wrapped around mine_  
_and your laugh_  
_tickling my ear_  
_and warming my skin_

Clem’s voice moves to a murmur as she glances over the rest of the text with widening eyes. 

“I can’t hear you,” complains AJ.

She stops, clears her throat, and backtracks. 

 _in this universe_  
_where death lurks_  
_in the darkness_  
_like the moonlight_  
_you scare away shadows_  
_and for once_  
_I feel safe_

 _I trace your freckles_  
_like constellations_  
_in an inky sky_  
_connecting to your_  
_beautiful smile_  
  
_and I want_  
_nothing more_  
_than for our_  
_lips to meet_

 _even if the stars shower_  
_all around us_  
_it couldn’t compare_  
_to your laugh_  
_to your smile_  
_to your touch_  
_or to the way you make me feel_

 _all I think about_  
_is the sun rising_  
_and our story_  
_continuing in the clouds_  
_so that one day_  
_you and I_  
_together_  
_can live in the sky_

When she finishes, the words hanging heavy in the air, they remain silent. Clem studies AJ’s face. It’s the same face me makes when he’s trying to sound out and understand a difficult word.

“I... don’t get it,” he sighs, “what does it mean?”

“Well,” she rereads some of the verses, “it sounds like it’s a love poem.” 

“What’s a poem?”

“It’s like a song, I guess? Just without music.”

“Oh,” AJ takes the paper back and looks it over. So, Aasim was writing a love poem-song thing? And he’s mad about it... why? He didn’t feel mad while Clem was reading it to him. In fact, he actually kind of liked it. 

“I like it,” he says.

“Me, too, actually...” Clem smiles. Then, she turns to him and asks, “Where’d you get this?”

“Oh, um...” AJ pulls the binoculars out again. “I found it by the stairs,” he replies. “Aasim dropped it.”

“Aasim dropped-” Clem’s eyes shot open wide. “This is Aasim’s?”

“I saw him writing it,” AJ admits. 

“You took this from Aasim?”

“No, I didn’t take it- I mean, he threw it away and I just grabbed it,” AJ explains. “He looked really mad while he was writing it and I just wanted to know why, but I couldn’t read it.” 

“AJ, this-” Clem suddenly felt guilt pooling in her stomach. Clearly, this wasn’t meant for her to read, much less AJ, and who knows what Aasim would say if he found out they read it. “You really need to give this back.”

“Why? He threw it away.”

“Doesn’t matter. This is really personal.”

“What do you mean?”

“By reading this we invaded his privacy. I don’t think he wants anyone to read this,” she sighs. “Remember when we first met him? And he was writing in his book?”

“Yeah?”

“And you took his book, without asking, and read it out loud?”

“Yeah...”

“He wasn’t happy about that, was he?”

“No...”

“And he was grateful that you have it back, right?”

AJ thought about this while chewing on his lip. “But... you said this is a love song, right?”

“Poem,” she corrects. “That-”

“So, he really likes someone,” a smile spreads across AJ’s face, “maybe we could help him?”

Clem frowns. “No-”

“Who do you think it is?”

Clem sighs, growing more frustrated. “I don’t know, it doesn’t say.”

“Maybe it’s you,” AJ points out with a giggle.

Clem feels heat rise to her cheeks. She crosses her arms. “It’s not me,” she says firmly. 

“How do you know?”

“I don’t have freckles.”

“Huh?”

Clem holds the paper up. “’I trace your freckles like constellations in an inky sky,’” she reads, pointing at her face, “it can’t be me because I don’t have freckles.”

“Oh,” AJ says. “But, what are freckles?”

An image of Louis’ grinning face flashes in her mind. “They’re little birthmarks,” she replies. “Like, little dots.”

AJ comes closer to her, standing on his tiptoes and studying her face. He then puffs out his cheeks. “Damn,” he curses. “No freckles.”

“No freckles.”

“Shit,” AJ pouts. “Maybe I could ask him-”

“No,” Clem snaps, “absolutely not.” 

“Why?” AJ whines. “I wanna know who Aasim likes.”

“I’m sure you do, but-”

“Aren’t you curious?” he interrupts.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I can just waltz up to him and ask,” she explains. “We're not even supposed to have this.”

“Maybe we could figure it out who it is?” 

“AJ-”

“Then, we can show them the poem-”

“No-!”

“-and then they’ll get a crush on Aasim and they’ll be together!” AJ grins from ear to ear. 

“Okay, that’s not how that works, kiddo.” Clem shakes her head. Sometimes, she wishes her thinking could be as simple and optimistic as AJ’s. 

AJ grabs her hand, staring up at her. “C’mon, Clem,” he begs, “when I tried to talk to him, he... he didn’t just look mad. I think he was sad, too. He’s our friend, so we should help him. I know that maybe I shouldn’t have taken it, but I did, and now I wanna help.”

Clem sighs. “And if this person doesn’t like Aasim back?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” AJ asks. “I like Aasim.”

“I mean in a ‘kissing’ way,” Clem clarifies. “Just because Aasim likes someone doesn’t mean they’ll like him back. “

“We won’t know unless we figure it out.”

“You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”

AJ grins. “Yep!”

It’s a bad idea. Terrible, even. If Aasim found out about this, he’d probably never speak to them again.

Or worse.

But... she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. 

Against her every better judgment, she says, “Okay, but we do this my way.”

AJ hops up and down, excited. “Yes! Yes!”

“First off, we can never tell Aasim. Ever.”

“Okay! Promise!”

“Second, I keep the poem. We can’t show it to anyone.”

"Not even if we figure out who it is?”

“ _Especially_  if we figure it out.”

AJ looked at the ground, crossing his arms and thinking out loud, “So... how are we gonna figure it out?”

“Well, we have one clue, remember?”

“The freckles?”

Clem nods.

“So, we just need to find the people with freckles?”

“And we’ll go from there,” she agrees. 

They would start tomorrow when everyone’s eating breakfast. Clem stuffs the paper in her pocket, wondering quietly to herself if this was a good thing they were doing, or a disaster waiting to happen.

_\---_


	2. Chapter 2

The bright warmth shining in through his window is deceptive. When Aasim tugs the heavy blanket off himself and kicks it to the floor, the cool air immediately clings to any free skin. He feels goosebumps rise along his neck. 

He had another dream last night. 

In his mind, the images replay over and over again. He memorizes as much as he can. He flips over onto his side and yanks open his desk drawer to pull out one of his many notebooks. This one is red with a torn cover and some water damage on the bottom half. Drowsily, he flips to the next blank page and pulls the cap of his pen off with his teeth.

He jots down the little details before they flee his memory forever. They’re scattered, barely sentences.

_the moon was enormous / not white?_  
_it was gold like the sun but cold_  
_gold/cold_

_fireflies instead of stars_

_in a city? we were on top of this huge building_  
_lots of windows_

_we kissed again_

He fills up the page before tossing it onto his desk. He lays back to stare up at the ceiling. 

It’s another day of survival. He’s to go check the traps and hunt after breakfast. Then, it’s back to work on his poetry...

Fuck.

Aasim groans, flinging his arm over his eyes. 

He really thought he had something last night, he really did. But, after reading back what he wrote it just seemed so... bad? He could never read something like that out loud and expect to be taken seriously. No way in hell. 

And, after he crumpled the paper up, it occurred to him once again that the whole poetry thing might be a huge waste of time and energy.

Being in love is a huge waste of time and energy.

It’s not something that’s going to help him survive day to day, it’s not going to feed him at night, and it’s not going to guarantee a roof over his head. Being in love, or rather, having this stupid, intense, mind-numbing crush wasn’t doing anything good for him. If anything, it’s just eating away at him, exhausting both his mind and his body, wasting his time. 

And for what?

For some fantasy of love? Of being loved? Of not waking up alone and having someone there to kiss him and hold him and just... be there?

That’s all it is: a fantasy. A dream. Just like the ones he has almost every night. 

He could continue with his plan, sure. Write the poem, write the note, confess with the poem, huge romantic moon, and... 

... and have one of two outcomes:

  1. Rejection. Eternal heartbreak. Death.
  2. Acceptance. Temporary happiness... Death. 



Because that’s all it ever ends with, right?

Aasim rises from the bed and moves about his room, continuing with his morning routine to distract himself with his thoughts. 

He’d try his hand at poetry again. 

But, he knows the truth.

Those poems will never be heard by anyone but him.

“Live in your fantasy,” he mumbles to the cold, empty room.

\---

AJ wouldn’t stop talking about the poem.

“I like the part about the stars showering,” he says. “Like, they’re falling to the ground? Can you imagine if all the stars really fell like that?”

Clem smiles. “It’d be quite the sight, wouldn’t it?”

AJ nods. “But,” he holds up the paper, “it couldn’t compare to his crush?”

“So he says.”

Clem had read the poem out loud twice this morning, and each time it made her feel a little more guilty. And a little afraid. What if Aasim happened to walk by and hear them in their room? Not that Aasim ever comes this way, but still. 

“So!” AJ rubs his hands together, “where should we start?”

Clem replies, “We should narrow down the suspects.”

“Sus... sussspects?”

“Like, who we think it could possibly be.”

“Well, it’s not me,” AJ says firmly.

“And it’s not me,” Clem agrees. “And, I think it’s safe to cross off Tenn and Willy, too.”

“And Rosie,” AJ adds. 

Clem laughs. “Okay, so who do we have left?”

AJ starts counting on his fingers, “Marlon, Violet, Louis...”

“Mitch and Ruby.”

“Mitch, Ruby, um, Brody, Omar...”

Clem says, “I think that’s it.”

“Here,” AJ pulls a wrinkled piece of drawing paper off his desk and a crayon. “Write all the suspects down!”

_Marlon_  
_Violet_  
_Louis_  
_Brody_  
_Ruby_  
_Omar_  
_Mitch_

“There,” she says.

“So, we gotta see if any of them have freckles, right?” 

Clem nods. “That’ll help narrow it down.”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what to expect. She hadn’t really paid much attention to the tiny details of anyone’s faces.

Well, with one exception-

AJ hurries to the door. 

“Hold it, goofball!”

“ _Clem_ ,” AJ pouts.

“What are the rules?” she says, holding out her hand. AJ reluctantly gives her back the poem.

“You keep the poem,” he mumbles.

“And?”

“And never ever tell Aasim.”

“Right, and don’t tell anyone else,” she pockets both the poem and the list of suspects and nudges him with a smirk, “think of it like we’re undercover detectives. No one can know what we’re investigating.”

AJ grins. “Got it!”  

\---

AJ’s... not very subtle.

At all.

The second they get outside, his narrowed eyes are darting from one person to the other. He’s tense, ready to strike at any moment. 

It’s very obvious that something’s up.

Clem tries to act normal as the two approach Violet. 

“Morning, Vi,” Clem greets. 

Violet yawns, stretching her arms over her head. “Good morning, I guess. Little cold, though.”

“Seems like summer’s over.”

“Awesome,” Violet sighs. She turns to smile at AJ but is surprised by his overly intense stare.

“Um...?” she quirks a brow. “Are you alright, AJ?”

“Fine!” AJ takes a step towards her. “Hmmm...” 

Clem forces an awkward laugh, placing her hand on AJ’s shoulder and pulling him back. He then relaxes, looking up at clem and shaking his head, mouthing quietly, “No freckles.”

Violet shoots Clem a puzzled look. 

“AJ’s paranoid,” Clem lies. “Had a, uh, bad dream that one of us is... secretly a robot.”

“Huh?” AJ frowns. Clem pinches him. “Oh! Yeah! Right!  _Robots_!”

“A robot?” Violet scoffs. “Well, hate to disappoint, but I’m human. Though, I’d check up on Marlon.” She smirks, leaning forward and whispering loudly, “Only a machine would think that hair looks cool.”

Clem let out a sigh of relief. Even if Violet doesn’t completely believe them, at least she’s playing along. 

“Marlon...?” AJ whips around to search for Marlon. He spots him talking with Brody over by the gates. Before Clem can stop him, he’s wandering over to them. 

When he’s out of earshot, Violet says, “Robots, hm?”

“Yeah,” Clem sighs. “Robots.”

“Where’d he learn about robots from?”

“An old book we used to read together.”

“Right...” Violet crosses her arms. “You know, you can talk to me if something’s going on, right?”

Shit.

“Are you sure?” Clem jokes. “You could be a robot trying to trick me into telling you all my secrets.”

“Could be.”

They both watch as AJ stands close to Marlon, pointing up at his face. Marlon’s expression is surprised, and, if Clem’s guessing right, a little offended. Brody chuckles beside them as AJ’s shoulders fall, disappointed. 

“Well, guess I should go find Tenn,” Violet says. “Don’t want him to miss breakfast. Talk to you later?” 

“Sure,” Clem smiles. 

“Have fun finding your ‘robot.’“

Clem nervously waves as her friend walks off. 

AJ sulks back over to her, staring down at his feet. “It’s not Marlon,” AJ sighs. “He doesn’t have freckles, he has  _pimples_ ,” AJ looks away, a little embarrassed, “there’s a difference, I guess.”

“Big difference,” Clem chuckles. “What about Brody?”

“Nope.”

Clem pulls the list out of her pocket. 

~~Marlon~~  
~~Violet~~  
Louis  
~~Brody~~  
Ruby  
Omar  
Mitch 

“Three down.” 

She was positive even before they made the list that Violet wasn’t the one. Sure, she and Aasim got along fine, from what she’s seen, but Clem couldn’t imagine Aasim falling for someone like Violet. 

Or Marlon, for that matter. After all, the two of them were constantly fighting about the safe-zone, among other things. 

And Brody, well, Clem couldn’t think of a time where she saw Aasim talking with her long enough for any real connection. So, that made sense. 

“Look!” AJ points towards the doors where Mitch and Willy are coming out.

Immediately, Clem notices that something’s off with Mitch. He’s hunched over, hand on his stomach and his feet dragging in the dirt. Willy follows him close behind, clearly panicked. 

“ _Suspect_!” AJ whispers, already running over there. 

“Wait, AJ- ugh!” Clem shoves the list into her jacket and follows. 

Mitch seats himself at the table before flopping over, motionless. 

“Mitch...?” Willy asks. He pokes the top of Mitch’s head. “Are you dying?”

“Probably,” groans Mitch. 

AJ sits next to Willy. “What wrong with him?” he asks. 

“I don’t know!” Willy cries. “I found him like this!”

AJ shakes Mitch’s shoulder. “Hey, let me see your face!”

So subtle.

Mitch yanks his head up to stare blankly at AJ, who begins inspecting ever part of Mitch’s face. 

AJ pokes his cheek. “Your face is dirty.” 

Mitch’s face meets the wooden table with a loud thud and a pained groan.

“Well, well...” Omar’s voice rings behind them. Mitch visibly tenses. “Mitch, what’s wrong?”

“You fuck off, _right now_.”

“Could it be that you have a stomach ache?”

“No-ugh!” Mitch curls up on himself some more. 

Omar shakes his head, placing a hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “Now, what could you have eaten that would make you sick like this?”

“I hate you,” snarls Mitch.

“Could it be, oh, I don’t know, that moldy chunk of beef jerky that I warned you  _repeatedly_  to not eat?”

Mitch snaps up, glaring at Omar’s smug face. “I don’t have a stomach ache!” he exclaims. “I feel fucking fantastic! Best I’ve felt in weeks!”

“Oh, really,” Omar says flatly.

“I feel so good I could fight a fucking bear.”

“A bear? Well, in that case,” Omar gestures over to where breakfast is cooking, “I guess you’ll need an extra helping of rabbit so you can be extra strong for that bear-”

Omar doesn’t get to finish. Mitch is up and running back towards the trees with a hand over his mouth. Clem doesn’t dare look, but oh, she can hear everything.

Omar cringes. “Told him not to eat it.”

“Man...” Willy frowns. “He gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Omar smiles. “He’ll feel better once it’s all out. I brought out a water bottle for him, too. He’s gonna need to hydrate after all that.”

Willy leaves the table to run over to Mitch. They watch as Willy pats the vomiting boy’s back. 

AJ leans over and whispers to Clem, “It’s not Mitch. No freckles, just dirt.”

Clem nods. She figured. Mitch doesn’t seem like Aasim’s type, anyway. Although, that would’ve been an interesting turn of events. What a couple they’d turn out to be. 

~~Marlon~~  
~~Violet~~  
Louis  
~~Brody~~  
Ruby  
Omar  
~~Mitch~~

More disgusting dry heaving sounds can be heard. 

Omar tsks before turning to Clem. “Breakfast’ll be done soon. Wanna do me a favor?”

“Uh, sure?” She really hopes it doesn’t involve cooking with him. She’d never do that again. 

“I’m gonna make up a plate for Louis. When you’re done eating, wanna take it up to him?”

AJ jumps up. “Yes!” 

“Great,” Omar seems pleased with AJ’s enthusiasm and doesn’t notice the boy’s inconspicuous inspection of his face. “Figured he’d want something. He didn’t look too good this morning.”

Clem’s brows furrow. “Like Mitch, or...?”

“Like he was sleep walkin’ with Marlon dragging him by his ear.”

“That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Omar chuckles. “I made him some coffee. Hopefully, he’s perked up by now.”

Omar leaves them to check on the food. 

Clem sighs. “It’s not Omar,” she whispers.

AJ shakes his head. “Not a single dot.”

~~Marlon  
Violet~~  
Louis  
~~Brody~~  
Ruby  
~~Omar~~  
~~Mitch~~

She frowns. “That leaves us with two suspects.” 

“Louis and Ruby,” AJ says. He’s anxious, Clem can tell. “Which one do you think it is?”

“...I don’t know.”

They grab their breakfast and sit down. Clem has to tell him several times to slow down before he chokes, and that even if he does finish, he’d have to wait until she’s finished, as well. 

While he wasn’t the most patient of them all, Clem couldn’t say she didn’t understand. Honestly, she was just as anxious to see Louis. 

Though, that does bring up a problem, one that she’d been ignoring. 

She knows for an absolute fact that Louis has freckles. 

She knows this because she’s spent plenty of time staring at his face. 

She also knows that Louis and Aasim are almost always paired up to go hunting. 

Louis and Aasim talk. 

A lot. 

It’s not impossible that Aasim could have feelings for Louis, and it’s definitely not impossible that the poem could be about him. 

But... it’s also totally possible for the poem to be about the other remaining person on her list. 

Ruby.

Clem can’t remember if she has freckles or not. But, if she does...

This might mean they need to find a new clue. 

\---

He’s not hungry, he decides. 

Aasim finds himself back in bed with his head tucked under the pillow and the blanket wrapped around his body. 

He decides, for today, that he doesn’t want to exist.

He just wants to sleep.

He’ll exist again tomorrow. 

But, not today.

He forces himself to count sheep. He pictures them jumping over a white picket fence. One, two, three...

He counts so that he doesn’t think of anything else. 

Four, five, six...

Nothing but sheep.

And a knock on his door. 

“Aasim?” Marlon’s voice calls. “You in there?”

He remains silent, unmoving.

“C’mon, dude! Breakfast’s ready!”

No.

“Remember, you and Louis got hunting duty today!”

_No._

The doorknob wiggles and his stomach drops. He can hear Marlon step in. 

“Aasim?”

“I’m sick,” he lies unconvincingly.

“Yeah, me too, buddy. Now, get your ass up.”

Ugh.

 ---

When Clem turns around with the food in her hand, she sees AJ already climbing up the ladder to meet Louis. She thanks Omar and quickly follows after him. 

“Louis!” She hears AJ enthusiastically greet.

“Hm? Oh, hey, little dude.” Louis isn’t so excited. His voice is deeper than usual and weirdly muffled.

Clem balances the food in one hand and cautiously climbs the ladder. 

She nearly snorts at the sight before her. 

Louis is sitting on his chair wrapped with a heavy, tattered blanket over his head and shoulders, covering his mouth and nose, only revealing his eyes. Said eyes are half-lidded and unfocused. One hand with an empty cup sticks out from the mess of blanket. 

Clearly, this is the perfect guy for lookout duty.

AJ takes the empty cup away from him and sets it aside. “You’re still tired?” he asks. “But, you had coffee. That always wakes me up.”

“Bean juice is just a big, fat lie,” Louis mumbles. “A conspiracy, I say.”

Clem approaches him with a smile and offers him the plate. It takes him a few blinks to register that it’s her. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” she teases. 

“And, suddenly, I don’t feel like death anymore.” Louis sits up and shrugs the blanket off down to his waist. He takes the plate offered to him and inhales the scent. “Never before has rabbit ever looked so divine,” he offers her a lazy grin, “thank you.” He scoots over, patting the place beside him.

Clem glances away as she feels her lips twitch and curl, but before she can move to sit, AJ lets out a huge gasp. When Clem looks back at them, AJ’s face is inches apart from Louis’. This seems to snap Louis awake as he nearly drops his plate at the sudden closeness.

“Well, uhm, hello, AJ?”

“You have freckles!” AJ points an accusatory finger in Louis’ face, nearly poking him in the eye. “Clem! Louis has freckles!”

Heat rushes through her body and pools in her cheeks.

“AJ!”

AJ pulls back, covering his mouth with both hands to hide his growing smile. He points at Louis again, bouncing with excitement. 

Clem is left there, frozen, unsure of what to say. Louis’ wide eyes hold many questions.

“Uh, yes? I’m aware?" Louis says. "Am I missing something here? I think I’m missing something,” he says. 

“It’s you! You’re-”

“The robot!” Clem blurts out. “Yep, Louis is the robot! Good job, AJ!”

“... _What_?” Poor Louis never looked so confused. 

From the corner of her eye, she notices AJ’s expression drop, turning into something close to a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. He covers his mouth again. Clem can tell he’s mentally kicking himself for almost exposing their secret. 

Louis eyes the two of them. “...I’m sorry, but I must be in a dream or something. Is that what this is? I fell asleep on watch and now I’m a robot? That’s the only explanation. Also, how are my freckles a sign of my being a robot?“ 

“Well, uh-” Clem bites her lip. “It’s just,  _AJ_  had a dream last night that one of us is secretly a robot, and that robot could've had freckles, so he’s a little paranoid,” she lies once again. 

AJ’s arms fall loose at his sides. “Yeah.”

“One of us is actually a robot, huh?” Louis thinks about this as he chews his food. “My money’s on Omar. How else is he able to take a rabbit and make it taste good? Only a machine could do that. Except, I don't think Omar has freckles."

"He doesn't," AJ sighs.

"Then again...” Louis frowns, “what if I  _am_  the robot, but I just don’t know? Like, I’ve been programmed to think I’m human when really I’m just a bunch of wires and buttons.”

Clem didn’t know what she expected really, but she’s not at all surprised that Louis would be taking this idea personally. 

“That would explain that charming sense of humor of yours,” she smirks.

“ _Hey_!”

She takes a spot beside him, pushing aside the blankets. She tosses the binoculars over to AJ to keep him busy.  “Anyway, never seen you like this before,” she changes the subject. 

Louis readjusts the blanket so that it’s laying over both their laps. “Not exactly a morning person,” he admits. “Or a bean juice person.”

“You gonna be okay to go hunting?”

“Are  _you_  coming along?”

“I can.”

“Then I’m more than okay,” he grins, winking at her. She rolls her eyes and turns away to hide her own smile. 

“Who’re you hunting with?” AJ asks. 

“Who else?” Louis snorts. “Aasim and I are the dream team hunters.”

“Aasim,” AJ repeats slowly. “I like Aasim. He’s _nice_.”

Clem shoots him a warning look. 

But, AJ ignores her. “You like Aasim, too, right Louis?”

Clem has to refrain from smacking her forehead.

“When he’s not being a sourpuss or a buzzkill, sure. Aasim can actually be really cool,” Louis replies, completely oblivious to what’s being insinuated. “And, believe it or not, he does have a sense of humor. Sometimes.”

“So, you guys are friends?” AJ pries.

 And Clem hasn't felt this frustrated in a while.

Holy shit. 

\---

After Marlon barged into his room and forced him out of bed for a second time that morning, Aasim figured counting sheep wasn't written in his fate today. So, up he was and at his desk. His notebook lays open, almost mocking him with the number of scribbles and doodled hearts. 

Again and again, he tries to write, tries to push those negative thoughts away. But still, more paper is wasted as he tears pages out and crumples them up. 

Hell, he even takes a break from the poetry format and just jots down his feelings. 

_When it's just the two of us, you make me feel like I have a purpose here. Suddenly, survival isn't just the one and only goal day to day. Making you smile feels just as important as living does. I want to stay up late with you and talk and laugh and hold hands and look at the stars and make up stories about each of them. Give them all names and stupid voices until the sun comes up and they fade away._

_I know I’ll never tell you any of this. I’ll never tell you how much you’ve grown to mean to me over all these years. You’ve always been there in the corner of my eyes and now you’re all I dream about._

_I want_

Aasim sighs.

_I want you._

How pathetic. 

\---

"Louis? You up there?" 

Clem looks over the side to see Ruby standing there with her hands on her hips. She waves down at the redheaded girl. "Morning, Ruby!"

"Mornin' Clem! Lou with ya?"

"Doc! You've come to take my place!" Louis gleefully jumps up. He scarfs the last bite of his breakfast and gathers his blanket before motioning towards the ladder. "Ladies first-"

AJ hurries past them both and moves down the ladder.

"Or small child first, whatever."

Clem rolls her eyes, quickly going down to stop AJ from getting too close and personal with Ruby. She’s the only other person on their list, which meant that if she didn't have freckles, then the poem was definitely about Louis. 

_Mystery solved_ , she thought bitterly. 

But, when she gets down there, she grows worried. AJ's staring up at Ruby.

"Uh-oh," AJ whispers. 

"Somethin' wrong, AJ?" Ruby asks. 

AJ shakes his head and turns around. He, not so subtly, points at Ruby with a panicked look. 

She hears Louis huff from behind. “It’s super uneventful out there. Not a single member of the smelly patrol to report,” he says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hear my bed calling-”

“No, you don’t!” Marlon calls over to them, shooting Louis a stern look. “You and Aasim are hunting today!”

“If that’s true then where is he?”

Marlon approaches them. 

“He slept in this morning, he’ll be out soon.”

“Slept in?” asks Ruby. “Doesn’t sound like him. Is he sick, too?”

“No,” Marlon answers shortly. He turns back to Louis. “In the meantime, get ready. And,” Marlon points at him, “don’t be late.”

Louis holds his hands up, dropping the blanket as a result. “Excuse me? I’m ready to go, it’s Aasim who’s late. Guess I’ll just have to take Clem instead.”

“Nope,” Marlon shakes his head. 

“Why?” Clem questions. 

“Need’ja to help Violet and Brody today. They’ve, uh, kind of been on one lately. If you could try and keep the peace, then maybe they could get some actual fishing done, yeah?”

She’s not happy about it, but gathering from Marlon’s tired expression, it’s been a hell of a morning for him. Best not to argue. 

“Alright, I’ll find Vi, then.”

“Thanks.”

Louis sighs, disappointed. 

“Don’t look so down,” scolds Ruby. “Aasim can’t do all that on his own.”

“Yeah, I know-”

Clem feels AJ tug on her sleeve, pulling her aside. 

“Clem,” he whispers, “Ruby has freckles, too!”

“I noticed.”

“So, which one is it?”

“I have no clue.”

AJ reaches into her jacket pocket. “Maybe we should read it again-”

“AJ!” She looks around and smacks his hand away. “Not here.” 

“But, Clem!”

“I, ugh, I know you’re curious AJ, but now is not the time. We’ll talk about it later. Don’t let it bother you, and don’t say anything while I’m gone.”

“Okay...” AJ pouts. When Clem’s not looking, AJ sneaks the balled up paper in his fist into his pocket. 

\---

The air isn't as cold now as the two boys walk through the woods. Louis is close and unaware of how many times he keeps knocking shoulders with him, a stupid grin stuck on his face as he hums quietly to himself. He carries Chairles up on his shoulder and inhales the forest scent deeply. Since they left the gates, he hasn't shut up. Aasim's short with him, barely giving any real responses. 

He can't help it, he just... feels so shitty. 

He doesn't know why. He felt fine yesterday until bedtime came, and he had a pleasant dream, but... once his thoughts really get the best of him, it's like a switch is flipped and the floodgates of constant annoyance and agitation are opened. 

They check the closest traps and find them untouched. 

After the third trap, Aasim notices his hand starting to ache. His grip on the bow is tight, stiff. He shifts it to the other hand to stretch out his fingers. 

His mind keeps wandering back to the page he wrote before they left, the one where he jotted down all his feelings then proceeded to rip it to shreds.

Because, lately, it seems like everything he writes is just absolute garbage.

"So," Louis starts, "if you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?"

Aasim frowns. He's not playing this game. “No.”

"The power of 'No,'" Louis thinks about this, "I wouldn't have picked it myself, but it does seem fitting to someone like you."

Aasim tries his best to ignore him.

"Me? I'd have the power to breathe underwater.” Louis sighs then. “I wish Clem could have come with us.”

Of course, he does.

“Yeah,” replies Aasim flatly. “She’d actually help out.”

“Hey, I help. I’m here, aren’t I? In fact, I was ready before you!” Louis protests. “I get things done. Just because I have a different way of doing things then you doesn't mean I'm the slacker here."

Aasim says nothing. He continues to walk until a hand rests on his shoulder, stopping him. 

“Alright, grumpy pants, what’s up?”

Aasim shrugs out of his grip and keeps moving. This earns him an elbow to the arm. 

“Yoo-hoo, Aasim?” Louis flashes a big grin. “You’ve been like this since we left. Seriously, you look down-”

“Can you just,” Aasim snaps, “shut up. Please.”

Louis stops.  He cocks his head, studying Aasim’s disgruntled face with worry. “Dude, are you okay?” he asks. “You’re not usually-”

“No, I’m not okay." Aasim shoves him, hard. "I’m  _sick_  of hearing you talk. Just shut up and do what you’re supposed to.” Aasim turns and walks away, still fuming, without another word.

Louis watches him, stunned, hurt.  He rubs at the freshly sore part of his chest where Aasim pushed him and follows at a distance. 

There aren’t many walkers wandering about. Aasim manages to shoot two rabbits, and they find another one caught in a trap.

Louis says nothing the entire time.

Aasim can feel how heavy the air is between them, and he hates it. 

Fucking hell, he hates it. 

They come across a walker caught in a trap. It’s missing an arm and a jaw. There’s an arrow sticking out of its shoulder. Skin slides down its bones with every movement. 

Louis makes no jokes. He doesn’t toy with the monster. He just takes Chairles, hits the walker twice, successfully killing it, and silently cuts it down while Aasim watches. 

The body lands heavy in the dirt. Aasim sets his bow against the tree and grabs the walkers ankles and drags him away. Just as he’s about the reach some bushes, the body gets caught on something. 

“Shit,” he mumbles. He hears the sounds of footsteps and Louis’ grunt as he resets the trap. He unhooks the walker's shirt from a rock protruding from the ground. His elbow brushes against the arrow, so he yanks it out. It wasn’t very deep with only the arrowhead being buried within the rotten flesh. Aasim uses his shirt to clean it off, spitting on it to help polish it. He hears a raspy growl from behind him. 

Aasim whips around, losing his balance as the new walker stumbles towards him, 

“Ah!” Aasim’s hands fly up to shove the walker away from him. The walker falls back, as does he. Immense pain pierces through his side and sends shocks throughout his body. 

“Aasim!” 

Louis is there, grabbing the back of the walker’s shirt when it tries to crawl towards him and forces the monster back. Aasim rolls onto his side, realizing that he’d fallen onto the arrow. Now, it sticks out of him loosely. “Fuck, fuck!” 

The sound of the walker's skull being crushed echoes throughout the forest.

Aasim grinds his teeth together and squeezes his eyes shut. With shaking hands, he yanks the arrow out. “Argh! Fuck!”

Hands are all over him. “Aasim, don’t! Shit!” Louis hikes up Aasim’s jacket to inspect the damage. His flesh is torn, bleeding profusely.  Louis, panicked, looks around for something to stop the bleeding before shrugging his jacket off and lifting Aasim up to tie it around his waist. 

More horrifying shocks of pain. “Don’t-!” Aasim protests, trying to push Louis away. But, Louis holds his ground, double knotting the sleeves of the jacket around him.

“You’re not bit, right? It didn’t get you?”

“No, shit, it’s just the arrow.”

Aasim tries standing but stumbles. Louis catches him, carefully helping him to his feet. 

“Fuck, that hurts,” Aasim groans. He feels tears sting his eyes at the throbbing heat but holds them back. 

“Here, let me-”

“I can walk,” snaps Aasim. 

Louis takes Aasim’s back and his bow. He keeps a comforting hand on Aasim back as they walk back to the school.

And all Aasim can think is, _you fucking idiot_.

\---

Ruby’s gentle with him.

His back’s to her as she works on stitching up his side. Louis is there, too, keeping a close eye on him and handing Ruby everything she needs. 

When they first walked through the gates, Ruby was already grabbing him and chewing Louis out. 

Louis tried to explain what had happened, but Ruby was too worried about getting him inside. Marlon and Omar had questioned what happened, but Ruby shooed them out the door. Aasim’s surprised she let Louis stay, though.

Shit.

It’s cold. There are goosebumps rising on his bare back and arms. 

He buries his face in the pillow, wishing he could just sleep. But, every time that needle pierces his tender flesh, he’s reminded that sleep is currently just a fantasy. 

“You two need to be more careful,” Ruby says.

“I know...” Louis says quietly. “The walker just appeared-”

“You need to be alert, always! What if one of you got bit?”

Aasim squeezes his eyes shut and says, “It’s not his fault.”

Ruby’s hands still. 

He continues, “I wasn’t paying attention. He was fixing the trap like I told him to. I was stupid.”

Ruby sighs. “Well... like I said, you both need to be more careful.” 

She finishes stitching him up and sits back. “Louis, could’ja fetch some more water, please?” 

“Sure.”

He hears Louis leave and close the door. Ruby’s wiping the blood off his skin with a damped towel. 

“How does that feel?”

“Fine.”

“Truly?”

“No, it hurts.”

Ruby gives a sympathetic smile. “Well, least yer honest, for the most part. It should start to feel better soon. Wasn’t really all that deep. Ya did do more damage by just yankin’ the arrow out, though. Shoulda left it.”

Aasim nods. 

“Hey,” she nudges him. “Aside from the wound, you doin’ okay?”

“Fine,” he repeats.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to.”

Her fingers go to brush back the hair that’d fallen over his face. “Heard you slept in. Usually yer an early riser.”

He says nothing.

“I was thinkin’ about somethin’ today. It just occurred to me, really,” she says. “Do you remember that time we were in the green house and Mitch dared you to eat one of the mushrooms growing?”

A smile sneaks its way onto his lips. “But then I challenged him to a mushroom eating contest?”

“And he ate, like, six of ‘em while you didn’t eat any,” she giggles. “He certainly was a winner.”

“Was he, though?”

“Surprised he lived though that, honestly.”

“Some things never change.”

“No, not really...” Ruby sighs with a sweet smile. “Y’know, if ya ever wanna talk, I’m here.”

“...I know.”

Ruby stands. “You should be okay to walk around, jus’ don’t strain yerself, okay? Do ya need any help getting dressed?”

“No.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Just as she’s about to leave, she turns and says, “I’m glad yer alright, Aasim.”

 He starts to count sheep.

\---

Eventually, after a few hours or so, he does get up. After he’s dressed and heads outside, he’s greeted by almost everyone, checking up on him and making sure he’s okay. He doesn’t see Clem, Violet or Brody anywhere, or Mitch, for that matter. He does spot Louis on the couch by himself, shuffling a deck of cards with a faraway gaze. 

He knows he should go over there and apologize, but fuck, he can’t bring himself to do it. 

He sits on the steps in front of the entrance, wincing at the pain aching in his side. He huffs, rubbing at his tired eyes. He wished he’d just stayed in bed. What a shitty day.

“Hi, Aasim.”

He’s startled by AJ. “Oh, uh, hey.”

“How’s your side?”

“Hurts, but I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Aasim nods, not sure what else to say. He does notice that the child seems nervous. It’s likely that he doesn’t know what to say, either. 

“Aasim?”

“Yeah?”

AJ looks away and starts fumbling with his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. 

Aasim raises a brow. “Okay...?” he says. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you stabbed me.”

“No, not that.”

“Oh...” Aasim frowns. “What, then?”

AJ then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “This is yours.” He moves up the stairs and hands Aasim the paper. Then, he begins to ramble. “I-I didn’t show anybody, and I really like it, you know. I don’t completely get it but I like the way some parts sound.”

“What are you-”

Aasim unfolds the paper.

_a thousand stories_   
_I could write_   
_about us_   
_in the night sky_

His heart plummets into his stomach. 


End file.
